Into The Fire
by stephabella
Summary: Recording superstar seeks a life more ordinary than the high glitz life he's been leading, bringing him to a Central California town where he finds out how to really live your life. Rated M for language. **ON HIATUS**
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. This story however, is mine, and all similarities to real persons are just that, similarities. Please feel free to review or not, I just love reading and writing. Hope you enjoy this journey with me!**

**This is a spanking new version of Chapter One, made pretty thanks to torisurfergirl and StoryPainter at Project Team Beta. Any mistakes after their edits and suggestions are mine.**

**October**

_This__ is__ Celebrity__ Insider__ and__ I__'m__ your__ host,__ Eva__ Hart.__ In__ our__ top__ news__ tonight,__ Seattle-based__ band _Red Zone_,__ has__ canceled__ the__ rest__ of__ their__ sold-out__ tour__ indefinitely.__ This__ comes__ on__ the__ heels__ of__ last__ Friday__ night__'s__ show__ at__ the__ Staples__ Center__ being__ cut__ short__ only__ nine__ songs__ into__ the__ band__'s__ set__ list,__ with__ front__ man,__ Anthony__ Masen,__ proclaiming__ his__ voice__ 'just__ isn__'t__ working__ out__ tonight__'.__ He__ has__ since__ disappeared__ after__ the__ humiliating__ end__ to__ that__ show._

_Aro__ Goldberg__ of__ Volturi, _Red Zone's_ management__ company,__ stated__ in__ a__ press__ conference__ this__ morning__ from__ his__ Los__ Angeles__ office__ that__ Masen__ was__ on__ an__ extended__ leave__ of__ absence__ for__ rest__ and__ rehabilitation__ from__ exhaustion__ and__ vocal__ stress._

_However,__ industry__ insiders__ say__ that__ Masen__ had__ become__ increasingly__ angry__ with__ Volturi__'s__ efforts__ to__ continue__ overextending__ a__ tour__ that__ has__ gone__ on__ for__ nine__ months__ with__ no__ breaks__ for__ the__ band.__ It__ has__ been__ repeatedly__ heard,__ through__ sources__ and__ gossip__ mongers,__ that__ those__ arguments__ between__ Masen__ and__ Goldberg__ could__ be__ heard__ throughout__ Volturi__'s__ offices__ with__ Masen__ stating__ that__ he__ 'would__ quit__' if__ the__ company__ wouldn__'t__ 'back__ off'__ on _Red Zone's_ promotion__ and__ touring__ schedule._

Red Zone_ is__ scheduled__ to__ return__ to__ the__ studio__ once__ again__ to__ begin__ recording__ their__ fourth__ album,__ tentatively__ titled__ 'Into__ the__ Fire__',__ this__ coming__ December,__ but__ Masen__'s__ disappearance__ and__ the__ subsequent__ cancellation__ of__ the__ current__ tour__ may__ delay__ those__ efforts._

_Attempts__ to__ reach__ band__ members__ Emmett__ McCarty__ and__ Jasper__ Whitlock__ for__ comment__ have__ been__ unsuccessful._

_In__ other__ news__…_

"I want him found, and I want him found now. He's acting like an insolent child. I want him in my office by December first, or Red Zone's contracts will be canceled."

Aro's assistant flinched at the violent tone of his voice as he belittled the private investigator he'd hired to find the missing rock star, Anthony Masen. Thankfully this time, there was no throwing of chairs or knocking over of lamps.

"I don't care how much money you spend, or how much of Volturi's resources you exhaust. If you have to call out the fucking LAPD, FBI, CIA, NSA or any other acronym bullshit law enforcement agency, I want him back! NOW!"

Aro tried, but failed repeatedly at slamming the office phone down into its cradle on his desk until he finally ripped the offending thing off his desk and threw it at the wall, smashing it into a mess of expensive technology on the floor.

"JANE!" Aro yelled.

Jane tried to stop the shaking in her knees as she moved closer to Mr. Goldberg's expansive desk.

"Yes, Mr. Goldberg?" she answered timidly.

With her notepad in hand, Jane McAllister was ready to implement any instruction her employer demanded of her.

Aro attempted to right his comb over, trying to cover his glistening bald spot and fix what little hair he had left, and then straightened his tie in an attempt to calm himself.

"Jane, I want you to contact Alec. Tell him to contact the remaining members of _Red__Zone_ and tell them that if they can't get Masen here in three weeks, by the first of December, I'm canceling their current contract and reinstating a new one with a new front man of my choosing."

Jane nodded her head and took down notes, her glasses slowly slipping down her nose.

Growling through his teeth, Aro seethed, "And remind them about the clause regarding their current music catalog. I'm sure they would do anything to keep it from becoming Volturi's upon cancellation."

Aro gave a curt nod to Jane, a silent signal that she was to leave him and get to work right away. Silently pulling the door heavy oak behind her and returning to the glass and chrome desk in the sparsely decorated outer office, Jane dropped to the seat of her ergonomic office chair to keep her knees from knocking together and started scanning through the ancient address box he insisted she keep (he hated modern technology). Jane located the number for Alec Daughtry, Aro's right-hand man, and relayed the message to him.

Alec knew by the tone of Jane McAllister's voice in the message she left that Aro was past exasperated with his precious pet, Anthony Masen.

Along a dusty four lane highway in Central California, a lone man, with nothing but a military-style duffle bag and guitar slung over his shoulder, made his way past fields being harvested at the end of their growing season. The peach and pear trees were bare, having already been cleared by local farmworkers, however there were still fields upon fields of trees still full with shiny red apples and vines drooping with heavy bunches of grapes to be finished. The yellow haze of dust ominously covering the clouds in the air signaled the beginning of the almond harvest and could be seen throughout the San Joaquin Valley as the giant shaker machines moved from field to field clearing the trees, releasing dust into the air.

He'd been wandering up and down the Southern California highways since October, avoiding the larger cities as much as he could. He had finally had enough of the fast-paced lifestyle he'd been leading for five years. He'd buzzed the formerly carefully-coiffed artificial blond out of his hair and let his natural brown and copper grow out messy and unkempt on the top. He'd tossed the contacts that tinted his eyes an unnatural blue somewhere outside of Barstow weeks ago. The orange fake tan he'd been forced to endure every week eventually scrubbed away to reveal a natural glow of fresh pink skin under the Tang-orange color. All that was left of the old him were the permanent reminders of his tattoos up and down his arms.

Though he was now only a three hour drive north of the bright lights and big city that was Los Angeles and the life he left behind, here he was in another world altogether. The people he'd encountered along the way had been friendly, kind, and smiling. They didn't expect him to entertain them like a trained monkey. They didn't lay false worship at his feet, or become sycophantic just to try to get ahead. All that had been expected from him was a little hard work in return for the kindness of a stranger's helping hand. He'd unloaded freight, worked a fish market, and walked miles upon miles of endless highway.

Finally, he decided it was time to rest. He stuck out his thumb as he continued north up Highway 58, hoping, but knowing, deep-down that no one would stop to pick up a stranger.

He was twenty miles outside of Bakersfield, twilight setting in as the hour grew later. A blue pick-up truck blew past him, heading towards the off-ramp to a truck stop he had seen advertised some miles behind him. It came to a sudden stop on the shoulder, a cloud of dirt, rocks and weeds flying up from behind its massive tires. Its driver threw the truck in reverse, backing towards him, while hugging the edge of the highway.

Pulling up next to him, the driver rolled down the window on the rusted-out behemoth and called out to the stranger.

"Hey, where you headed?"

The man nudged his chin forward. "Bakersfield's that way, right? Looks like a good place to stop for the night."

Sizing up the man before him, the driver decided he looked safe enough to pick up, even though he'd been taught by his father, a retired Sherriff's Deputy, to never pick up hitchhikers.

Deciding to trust his gut, the driver leaned over the center console, opened the squeeking passenger-side door and yelled for the man to hop in.

The driver extended a work roughened hand across the center console in introduction.

"The name's Jake. Jake Black."

The stranger extended a hesitant hand to shake Jake's.

"I'm An- Edward. Edward Cullen."

Having still gone by "Anthony" the last few weeks, the name he hadn't used in years sounded strange, yet comforting, to his own ears; finally, he could be who he really was.

Jake threw the car back into drive, pulling off the shoulder and back onto the highway. Eying Edward up and down, and noticing his bag and dusty guitar, Jake decided to take a chance.

"So, Edward, you looking for work?"

**Thanks so much for reading! Chapter Two is now off for beta and after those edits/changes are made, it will replace what is currently posted. In the meantime, I am also currently working on Chapter Four, so make sure to favorite/follow to get updates when it's posted!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. This story however, is mine, and all similarities to real persons are just that, similarities. Please feel free to review or not, I just love reading and writing. Hope you enjoy this journey with me.**

**Thank you to SilverAnemone13 and Lezlee at PTB for helping to beta this chapter!**

**Lyrics are from "Your Cheatin' Heart" by Hank Williams, "Show Me What I'm Looking For" by Carolina Liar.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

_Your cheatin' heart will make you weep_

_You'll cry and cry and try to sleep_

_But sleep won't come the whole night through_

_Your cheatin' heart will tell on you_

_When tears come down like falling rain…_

Bella's friend, and sometimes bartender, Jake's cousin Sam sat at the end of the shiny mahogany bar, big crocodile tears falling into his empty whiskey glass while belting out a terrible rendition of Hank Williams' _Your Cheatin' Heart_ for the whole world to hear.

"Make it stop, make it stop!"

"Make what stop, Bells?"

_Finally_! Jake could get Sam out of her bar and make sure he got home safely better than she could.

"Thank fuck you're here, Jake. Get your damn cousin out of my bar and get some coffee in him, would you?" Bella whipped around to place a bottle of tequila she was pouring back on the shelf. "If I have to hear him wailing to Hank again, I swear I'm going to carve my veins out with a spoon."

Motioning to Edward to have a seat while Jake handled his cousin's broken heart, he put a hand to Sam's shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear.

Seeing movement outside her direct line of vision, Bella immediately launched into her usual greeting of "Welcome to the Swan Dive, what can I get…"

The sea green of Edward's eyes caught the cocoa depths of hers, and with his trademark smirk left over from his Anthony Masen days, answered "Beer, please" before she could finish.

"Draft or bottle?" she asked.

"Draft. Heineken if you have it."

He was obviously a city boy, based on his choice of beer. Rolling her eyes, she leaned against the back counter and crossed her arms across her chest as she addressed him.

"Look buddy; we have peanut shells on the floor, country, southern rock and oldies on the jukebox, and ancient neon signs on the wall." Bella leaned back against the back liquor shelf, her arms and legs crossed antagonistically. "Your choices are Bud, Coors, or Miller. If a hipster-type like you prefers, we even have light versions to help you maintain that girlish figure, or hard liquor if you're so inclined. Heineken is not an option."

He rose his eyebrows, realizing he'd inadvertently insulted the bartender. Used to getting what he wanted, he realized that he'd just have to settle for what the bar had, and not what he wanted for a change. Edward indicated the Budweiser as his choice; he picked up the pilsner glass placed on the bar in front of him and turned on his stool to witness Jake throwing his cousin's arm across his shoulder and hauling the drunken man towards the door.

"Hey, Edward," said Jake. "Think you can hang out here while I get Sam home? I should only be gone for about thirty minutes or so; Bells here can take care of you while I'm gone."

"Sure. No problem, man."

Jake looked back over his shoulder and called towards Bella.

"Bells! Keep Edward company while I get Sam home. I'll be back and take over for you in a bit."

"Sure thing, Jake, no problem."

While Jake left with Sam draped across his shoulders, Bella eyed Jake's new friend from the other side of the bar.

"So Edward, how do you know Jake? I've never seen you before, and I know everyone he knows, so…"

Hesitantly, Edward told Bella his story between her serving other customers in the bar, minus any mention of him being a Grammy-winning, world renowned musician. He did however tell her about how he had been wandering from place to place, picking up work on occasion.

"… then Jake stopped and picked me up, and here I am," he finished.

Jake stopped behind Edward on his way back into the bar, and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Edward here's a musician, Bells. You've been looking for some live entertainment for the bar and Edward's looking for a gig. Match made in heaven if I do say so myself." Jake blew on his curled fingers and rubbed them across his t-shirt.

Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, she glared at Jake not noticing the blush creeping up Edward's neck.

"Just because he waltz's in here carrying a guitar doesn't make him a musician, Jake. For all you know he's a pan-handler who sits on a street corner, plunking out the three same chords over and over for change."

"I play and sing a little," Edward piped up. "I just haven't had to in a while, so I'm a bit rusty."

"Show me what you got, Stranger," she said, pointing to a lonely microphone and stool on a makeshift stage in the corner.

Edward removed his battered and scarred acoustic guitar from its case and, slipping the strap over his head, had a seat behind the mic.

Strumming a few lazy chords across the strings, he looked across the busy bar, asking through the mic. "Country and southern rock, huh? Let's see what happens shall we?"

Edward decided he'd test himself, choosing a song that was a little out of the norm for him.

_Wait, I'm wrong_

_Should have done better than this_

_Please, I'll be strong_

_I'm finding it hard to resist_

_So show me what I'm looking for_

His voice rang clear and strong through the bar, the buzz of the other patrons fading to the background.

_Save me, I'm lost_

_Oh, Lord, I've been waiting for you_

_I'll pay any cost_

_Save me from being confused_

_Show me what I'm looking for_

_Show me what I'm looking for… oh Lord_

Placing both hands on the bar, Bella leaned forward, listening intently to this lonely man asking for salvation from what, she didn't know. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she continued examining the way his dark lashes lay against his pale cheek as he continued to pour his heart out on her tiny stage.

At the end of Edward's song the bar was eerily quiet, the patrons of the bar just sat and stood in silence until Jake started whooping and hollering. The others joined in, begging for Edward to continue singing.

He glanced towards Bella, looking for a sign that he hadn't completely messed up by choosing a song that some would have considered depressing, but that he felt was becoming his new anthem. She nodded, indicating he had done well, and motioned with her hand to continue.

Quickly, Edward launched into another song. His next choice was much livelier, encouraging people to get up and dance and drink.

Realizing this stranger could be just what she needed to keep her patrons coming back and getting new business in the door, Bella turned to Jake, who had joined her behind the bar.

"Jake, tell him he's hired."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. This story however, is mine, and all similarities to real persons are just that, similarities. Please feel free to review or not, I just love reading and writing. Hope you enjoy this journey with me.**

**Thank you Claireybeary12 and AnthroBug from Project Team Beta for fixing my ellipses and commas. **

Edward didn't know it, but The Swan Dive was more than just a bar. From the outside, it looked like any other "dive" bar with neon signs flashing in the windows, and a solid wooden door to keep the sunlight out and the noise in. Behind the mirrored wall of the bar was a series of rooms; an office, storage room, kitchen, and employee lounge all took up this space. A quick turn past the office revealed a locked door, which led to a narrow staircase and a well-lit landing.

Edward followed Bella up the stairs, trying not to trip and drop his duffel bag or guitar case, while keeping his eyes trained anywhere other than the tiny shorts and swaying hips in front of him. That was until Bella suddenly stopped at the landing and he ran forehead first into her ass.

With a giggle, Bella craned her neck back and glanced down. "Everything okay back there, Edward?"

"Uh, y-yeah," he managed to stutter out. "Everything's great back here…" He said it under his breath, hoping she couldn't hear him.

"Here's your key. The rent is seventy-five dollars a week; it's just the basics. We share the bathroom at the end of this hall, and there's a small washer/dryer combo inside, too. If you're hungry, you're welcome to anything in the kitchen downstairs. Just don't burn the place down, okay?"

"Okay." said Edward, as he took the dangling key from her.

"I'm right across the hall from you, so I don't want to hear any funny business in the middle of the night. Got me?" she asked, her eyebrow cocked up in warning.

"Yep."

"And don't lose that key; I just had the lock installed last month after some…issues," she said, hesitation coloring her voice. "Only you, Jake, my dad, and I have a copy."

"Got it. Don't lose the key."

"All right then," she said, smacking her hands together in the quiet. "You're on from seven until ten, a half hour break, and then straight on until last call on Friday and Saturday. Any questions?"

"Yeah." He scratched his head in thought. "What do you want me to do the other days of the week?"

"Look, Edward. I can't afford to pay for any other nights right now, so those two days are it. Take it or leave it."

"Guess I'll be taking it in that case."

As Bella turned to leave, Edward reached out, catching her elbow.

"Hey, is there a place I can get a cell phone around here? Just one of those disposables is fine."

"Yeah," she replied, pushing escaping wisps from her ponytail behind her ear. "There's a 7-Eleven just on the corner; you should be able to get one there along with some cards to load time on it."

"Great, thanks."

Bella quickly turned to walk across the hall, leaving Edward alone for the first time since he'd arrived in town.

After a decent night's sleep, Edward decided to do a little exploring of the area and head over to the convenience store Bella had mentioned the night before. Armed with a large coffee, a pack of powdered donuts, and a new TracFone, Edward wandered over to sit on a bench in the park he'd passed earlier in the morning, and dialed a number that he knew by memory.

"Hey, Jasper. It's me"

"Where the fuck have you been, man? It's been three weeks!"

"I'm fine; I'm in Bakersfield."

"Please don't tell me you've fucked a sheep, man. What the bumfuck is in Bakersfield?"

Edward ran a hand over his face, sighing at how quickly he was becoming exasperated at the turn his phone call was taking. "It's just where I ended up. Miss me?"

"You have no fucking idea, man. Emmett's almost bald from yanking on his hair. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know, Jazz. I don't really want to come back. I'm tired…of everything. Do you remember what it was like when we were kids? Just the three of us in Emmett's garage. What the hell are we doing man? This isn't what we signed up for, you know? It's just not fun anymore."

"I know, I know. But what can we do? When are you coming back? Aro's threatening to replace you, cancel our existing contract, and keep the song catalog. You have to come back, man."

"I know, I know…It's just…When did it all become so fucked up?"

Jasper sighed in reply. "I don't know…"

"Yeah," Edward said, a small grimace on his face. "So, what's new in Hell-A these days?"

"Well, other than the media stalking our houses and trying to find you, not much. But Tanya's been talking about you again. She seems to think you're looking for a quiet little love nest for the two of you. She's telling the paps, and anyone else who will listen, that you're looking for a small island getaway to buy just for the two of you!"

"Fuck, not this shit again. When is she going to take the fucking hint that we're done?"

Jazz laughed. "Never, dude. She told Perez last week that you were looking at buying Tahiti! Stupid chick is a fucking waste of hot air, that one!"

After sharing a few more anecdotes of what had been happening during his absence, Edward took the conversation in a new direction.

"You, Emmett, and the girls need a little getaway, too. Why don't you drive up here for a few days? It's quiet, far away enough to avoid the public eye, and I bet you guys could have a little fun in the process. I'm renting a small place above a bar I'm playing in, so it's too small for all of us, but I'm sure there's a hotel or two you guys could check out."

"So, you are playing? In a bar? And how's that working out for you, buddy?" Jasper laughed as he recalled the last time Red Zone had to play bars, remembering cramped quarters, shitty bar food, and warm beer.

"I just started last night at a place called The Swan Dive. Two nights a week, and cheap board upstairs."

"And no one's figured out who you are yet? I find that awfully hard to believe, Edward."

"It's amazing what going back to basics can change, man. No more blond hair, no more blue eyes. Just good old me for a change."

Edward could hear Jasper doing his hem-haw thing that he always did while contemplating a decision. He could tell Jasper had reached a decision as he huffed through the phone.

"All right then, maybe we'll see you soon. Let me talk to everyone, and I'll call you and let you know when we'll be up there. Is this a good number to reach you at?"

"Yeah, this number's good. Just please, please don't give it out!"

Promising to call back soon with an update on when, or even if he would be coming for a visit, Jasper started calling Emmett the moment he hung up with Edward.

"Hey, Emmett. It's Jasper. How do you feel about a road trip?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. This story however, is mine, and all similarities to real persons are just that, similarities. Please feel free to review or not, I just love reading and writing. Hope you enjoy this journey with me.**

**Thanks to torisurfergirl and RaindropSoup, my betas, who keep me from being overly wordy and fixed my commas and ellipses, as well as teaching me how to use ALT + 0151. {grouphug}**

**Inspired by "After Dark" by Tito and Tarantula. Lyrics are from "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk" by Trace Adkins**

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><p>… <em>whoo-wee<br>Shut my mouth, slap your grandma  
>There outta be a law<br>Get the Sheriff on the phone  
>Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on<br>That honky tonk badonkadonk_

Holy shit, she was dancing.

Hair-swinging, hip-shaking dancing. Edward had never seen anyone so free and beautiful and alive as Bella just dancing behind the bar, counting liquor bottles and getting ready for a busy Friday night. She had nothing on the club whores he'd been used to in LA. All of the moves those women put out on the floor were carefully crafted to lure in men, but this was for pure, uninhibited enjoyment.

Edward hopped up on the bar, spinning across the top and flinging his legs over, before he dropped to the floor on the other side and tapped Bella on the shoulder.

Bella screamed at Edward's touch, having been completely immersed in counts, volumes, and the loud music blaring from the jukebox. Her hand flew to her chest, trying to calm her flying heartbeat. "God damn it, Edward! What the hell? Warn a girl first, will you!"

He held his hands high in surrender, laughing. "I don't think you would have known I was here if I were a tornado blowing through this bar; you seemed a little…tuned out."

Bella huffed her bangs away from her face and reached for the remote to turn the volume down. "Since you're here, do me a favor. Could you get me the step stool from the hall? I need it to count the bottles up there that I can't reach," she said, pointing above her head. "I really need Jake to move that shelf down so I can reach it, too."

Edward lifted the pass-through out of his way to get the stool and brought it back to Bella.

"So…you and Jake been together long?"

"Eww, no! Jake's like a brother. That's just—blech!"

"I just figured since you two have what seems like a close relationship…You know what? It's really not any of my business." In an attempt to change the subject, Edward looked up at the shelf above Bella's head. "You know, I could help you move that shelf down a bit. How about you hand down the bottles as you do your count? When the shelf's empty, I'll get it moved down for you."

"That would be great, Edward. Thanks!"

Bella set to work, counting and handing off the bottles to Edward before he placed them on the bar behind him. He became more and more distracted at the motion of her shirt moving across the top of her jeans, seemingly revealing more and more of her smooth back to him. Soon, the shelf was cleared and the height adjusted with everything put back in its place.

Edward's face puckered in disgust as he sipped his now cold coffee. "So, I wanted to talk to you about the music for tonight. Southern rock, I get. But I'm not really all that familiar with a lot of country music. I need some help picking some stuff out to play." With an unusual shyness, he glanced at Bella from behind his coffee cup. "You know your customers better than I do. I thought I could sit down with you sometime today and get a set list together. If you don't mind, of course."

Mentally calculating the amount of free time she had, Bella figured it wouldn't be such a bad idea, especially if she could tailor his set list to the music selections her patrons enjoyed most.

"Sure, I have some time after lunch today. The jukebox is one of those fancy computerized ones, so I can pull the most played music and artists, and we'll go from there, okay?"

With a nod of his head in affirmation, Edward took his cold coffee and stale donuts and moved to head up to his room.

"Hey, Edward?" Bella called out to him. "The kitchen's always open to you, okay? I expect to see you eating a proper breakfast from now on." She smirked at him when he turned toward her. "I always take care of my investments."

"Jason Aldean?"

"Nope."

"Carrie Underwood?"

"I've me—I've heard of her." Thankfully Edward caught himself from saying that he'd met her before. He wasn't completely oblivious when it came to today's country music. He'd actually met several country artists at various awards shows in the past, including the Grammys.

"Kenny Chesney?"

"Yeah, I've…heard of him, too."

"Please tell me you know Johnny Cash!"

Edward laughed heartily, his whole body shaking at the fact that anyone in their right mind would know who Johnny Cash was. "Johnny Cash is definitely a 'yes,'" he said with a smile, giving Bella two thumbs up.

"Now, no Bakersfield bar worth its liquor license would be complete without Buck Owens in the jukebox. You know who he is right?" She glanced up at him with squinty eyes, trying to make sure he understood the seriousness of the situation if he couldn't perform at least one of Buck's songs. The Swan Dive's reputation was at stake.

"Yes, I know who he is." Edward was becoming exasperated by her line of questioning. "I just don't know any of his songs."

Handing a list of songs over to Edward, Bella reached for her beer on the table and took a deep swig of it. Edward watched as her lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle and swallowed. Mesmerized by sight of this unpretentious woman comfortably drinking a beer from the bottle, instead of a fancy glass like he was used to seeing, like she was just one of the guys, caused Edward to have to adjust himself. The more time he spent with Bella, and the more he watched her little quirks, the more he found himself drawn to her.

Edward shook his head at Bella, clearing his mind of the thoughts that were running rampant; he'd been doing a lot of that lately, though Bella just tended to think it was since they started combing through the song selection she had pulled from the jukebox.

Bella continued to show him song after song by newer artists like Keith Urban and Trace Adkins, and older standards like Bob Wills and the previously mentioned local legend, Buck Owens.

Armed with a CD full of music, Edward sat in his room, listening and strumming out the chords to the songs while trying to memorize lyrics for the rest of the afternoon.

"Great job tonight, Edward. Looks like you're even starting to get some groupies," Jake said, cocking his head toward a group of women standing nearby who were openly ogling the night's entertainment.

"It was hard work, trying to learn everything last minute, but I'm glad it was so well received tonight."

"Well, keep it up, man, and you'll be the talk of the town!" His comment caused Edward to internally panic. Jake waved at his cousin, Sam, sitting at the end of the bar. "Hey, I gotta help Bella out tonight behind the bar. First drink's on me, man." With a firm clap of his hand on Edward's shoulder, he tossed a dingy white bar mop over his shoulder and walked off to take orders from the pile of customers waiting.

Bella was filling orders as fast as they were coming in, all the while chatting with each patron, making them feel at home. She had on a tight, black tank top, painted-on jeans, and cowboy boots, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination for the men in the bar. Her requisite ponytail flipped back and forth as she moved with a cat-like grace between each person.

Edward sat down on a stool near the open pass-through. "Good set tonight. You're a fast learner." Sliding him a beer, Bella leaned her hip against the edge of the bar before crossing her arms across her chest, causing Edward to divert his attention from his thirst to her now enhanced cleavage instead.

"I had a good teacher."

Bella laughed and shook her head. "All I taught you was what they like," she said, sweeping her arm across her body like she was Vanna White. "The rest was all you, city boy."

"And what does Bella like?"

"Bella likes it when her employees are on time for their shift." Righting herself, she pointed a finger at the stage and said, "Finish up that beer and get that ass on stage."

Rising from the stool, he leaned against the bar, his long, guitar player fingers splayed across the top. "Any requests, boss?"

Bella hesitated, pausing to think for a moment. "Something…I know!" She snapped her fingers as an idea came to her. "You know that movie From Dusk Till Dawn? The one with George Clooney? Play something from that."

"You're lucky I know that movie, but I don't believe there's any country music in it." He reached over to the bar's black condiment station and speared a maraschino cherry with a toothpick.

"But it's moody and bluesy, and these people love to be moody and bluesy." She slapped his hand like she was scolding a child as he pulled back with his winnings, a lazy smirk on his face. As if it held the meaning of life, her eyes followed the motioned of the toothpick as he lifted it to his lips. "And it's one of my favorite movies."

"I would have thought you were more of a sparkly vampire kind of girl."

"Uh, no. Vampires are supposed to scare the shit out of you before they suck you dry. Not be covered in glitter, ready for a rave."

Edward chuckled. "I think I have just the thing. But, you have to make me a deal." Cheekily, he stuck the toothpick with the cherry in his mouth and sucked it off noisily.

"A deal? What kind of deal."

"If I play something from that movie, you have to take a break for a change."

"Dude, I have a bar to run—"

Edward cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled across the bar. "Jake!"

"Yeah?"

"Can you watch the bar for a bit? Bella needs a break."

"Sure thing, man!" Jake gave him two thumbs up and nodded in agreement.

Bella couldn't help but focus on the column of Edward's throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he guzzled down the last of his beer. He stuck the toothpick in the corner of his mouth, grabbed Bella's hand, and pulled her behind him through the crowd toward the stage.

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><p><strong>As always, please leave me some love; I enjoy each and every one! XOXO<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. This story, however, is mine. All similarities to real persons are just that—similarities. Please feel free to review or not. I just love reading and writing. Hope you enjoy this journey with me.**

**Many hugs go out to my betas, RaindropSoup and torisurfergirl. They've put up with my computer issues, ailments, and general procrastinations and they make my words, grammar and punctuation shine! XOXO**

**Lyrics are by from "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer.**

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><p>"I can't believe you got me to do that!" Bella was laughing her head off, amazed that by some miracle, Edward had picked the perfect song from her favorite movie to play and that he even got her to dance a little with some of the regulars on the dance floor.<p>

"Well, I'm glad you got to have a little fun. Seems you could have used it for a change." Edward threw his patented Tony Masen smile at her. Emmett had always said any lady would melt at the sight of it, and it seemed to be doing the trick this time too, as Bella seemed to finally be warming up to him.

It was the end of the night and the bar was closed. The only person there besides Edward and Bella was an older waitress named Shirley busing the tables of empty glasses and beer bottles. Shirley was a spry 64-year-old woman who had worked in the bar since Bella's granddad started running it in the 1950s. As much a fixture in The Swan Dive as the mahogany bar itself, pictures of Shirley were strewn across the walls spanning decades of live music that had been played in the bar with her posed in fancy dresses with tall men in cowboy hats and rhinestone studded suits.

Other than the sounds of clinking glass and the jukebox on low volume, it was quiet in the dimly lit bar while Edward sat reclined in a chair across from Bella, munching on peanuts as she tallied up the night's take.

"You don't look like you get to spend much time just having fun. I thought you'd enjoy getting out there on the dance floor."

A huge smile crossed Bella's face as she thought about just how much fun she did in fact have. It had been a long time since she'd had a chance to feel carefree and getting out on the dance floor with the rest of the crowd was just what the doctor ordered.

"I don't really get any free time anymore." She hesitated before continuing, "The Swan Dive pretty much takes up all of my free time these days. I've been running it with my dad, Charlie, for the last few years. He used to be a sheriff deputy, but retired a few years ago to help my granddad out with the bar after Gram died."

Bella continued to balance the cash on the table against the receipts in her hand, making notes in an old fashioned leather-bound ledger. "By that time, I'd just graduated from Cal Sate with a business degree without any future job prospects."

To Edwards's surprise, Bella produced a pair of black thick-framed glasses and perched them on her nose as she continued to work. He'd seen a lot of beautiful women in his time, all glittery dresses and big hair, but nothing beat the sight of Bella sitting across from him in the faint light, casually dressed, with her hair slipping out of her ponytail and those black glasses perched on her nose.

"Dad asked me to come in and help run the business side of things. You know: bookkeeping, taxes, employee records—that kind of stuff. Then one day, Granddad got sick with pneumonia. He couldn't take care of himself _and_ run the bar, so Dad left the running of The Swan Dive to me, and here we are."

Edward was still curious about the role Jake played in her life—they were obviously extremely close. "How does Jake fit into all of this? He seems like he's a pretty important part of the business."

Bella's smile when she thought about the adventures she and Jake had together since they were kids lit up the dark space. "Jake and I grew up together, like brother and sister. Best buddies, really. Both of our dads worked together for the sheriff's department. Jake's dad retired last year and likes to spend his time with my dad and granddad, fishing and hunting when they get the chance. Jake was looking for a job after the car shop he was working at closed, so now he works here behind the bar. Sometimes he's an unofficial bouncer when things get a little…rowdy…but so far he's only had to intervene a few times."

Edward huffed in disbelief. "I don't see this place getting rowdy. Everyone here seems pretty laid back."

She nodded slowly. "They are for the most part. Sometimes college kids will come in here, thinking they're in a night club. They get loud and belligerent—the usual stuff."

"I just have to ask about the new keys. Was that because of a rowdy customer or…?" Edward let the question hang between them, recalling Bella's hesitation to talk about the new keys.

"No, actually, that was due to a rowdy ex-boyfriend."

"Ah-ha." Edward had figured it was something like that. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Are you sure you want to hear this story?"

"I've got nothing keeping me from listening at this point, Bella. I did ask."

They were interrupted by Shirley coming up behind Bella and putting a couple more fresh beers on the table.

"Hey, Bella. I'm done for the night," Shirley interrupted. "Need anything before I leave?"

"No, Shirley, that's fine. Are you taking some food to Marcus? "

Shirley nodded. "The usual. A couple turkey sandwiches and some fruit."

"Good, that should take care of him until tomorrow night."

"It sure will, boss. Have a nice night. Don't work too hard." Shirley gave Bella a quick squeeze on her shoulder before she turned to leave for the night, Bella trailing behind her to lock up.

She flopped down into her chair and sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair. "Where were we? Oh, right…James, the ex."

"Yep. What's the story with James the Ex?"

"James and I had been dating for about three months before Jake started working here. James had been pretty jealous of my friendship with Jake from the beginning, so it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that James would try to pick fights with me about him.

Bella sighed and rubbed her eyes before continuing. "One night, he came into the bar after getting loaded somewhere else and started picking a fight with me. He started shooting his mouth off about how he knew the real reasons I worked so late at the bar, that it had nothing to do with the actual business aspects of keeping The Swan Dive running. It was a Friday night with a full bar and loud music. A lot like tonight, you know?"

Edward watched as the memories of what had happened that night clouded her face. Her whole expression had changed. Gone was the happy, free-wheeling spirit that had graced his presence just a short while ago. In its place sat a little woman, terrified of revisiting memories she wished to forget.

Bella was getting a bit fidgety as she ruffled the edges of the ledger through her fingers. With her free hand she reached for one of the beers that Shirley had left and continued her story after a long, satisfying gulp.

"He started making a scene in the bar, and I told him he needed to leave. He came around the bar, grabbed my arms, and started shaking me and yelling in my face about how he knew I was nothing but a little slut who spent all her time opening her legs for anyone. How I'd probably fucked every man in the bar. Jake tried to step in, but James caught him off guard and punched him. Back then, there wasn't a phone that was easily accessible down here, so I jumped over the bar away from James and headed upstairs to my apartment to call the cops." She shook her head. "Stupid move, I know. Want to know another stupid thing? I didn't remember that James had a key, a key I had given him a few weeks before."

Edward wanted to reach out and comfort her in some small way. She had been afraid at the time—of course she had only been thinking of getting away from James and calling the cops. But Edward didn't know if his touch would be well received, and he didn't want to interrupt her. Plus, he was bracing himself; he could guess what had happened next wasn't going to be good.

Bella didn't look at him as she ran a hand through her hair and continued "I remember the door slamming open behind me as I ran up the stairs, and I had just made it to my apartment when James grabbed me from behind and started slamming me, face first, into the wall. He was yelling and screaming and…I must have blacked out at some point, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital, tubes running into my arm with my dad on one side of the bed and Jake on the other, asleep."

"What?" Disbelieving, Edward sat ramrod straight in his chair. He hadn't known Bella long, just a few days really, but even he could tell that she was a no-nonsense kind of girl and that her ex-boyfriend James was a straight-up douchebag.

"Concussion and twelve stitches right across the middle of my forehead to prove it."

Edward leaned across the table to see if he could see any trace of the stiches in her forehead. Seeing none, he remarked, "Well, they must have done a good job because I can't see any sign of stiches."

Scooting her chair back, Bella got up from the table and walked around to stand beside Edward. He turned a little in his chair as she brushed her bangs back from her forehead. Leaning down in front of him, she drew a line across her forehead from the top of her left eyebrow to her hairline. "See right here?"

Distracted by the sight of Bella's formerly concealed breasts threatening to spill out of her top as she leaned over him, he replied. "I still don't really see anything."

She grabbed the arm of the chair to scoot Edward away from the table and stepped between his legs, as close to him as she could get, before bending down and shoving her head in his face for closer inspection.

"Look. Right here. See that pink line?" she asked.

"Bella, it's barely noticeable."

"That's not the point."

"Then what's the point, Bella?

Bella huffed impatiently. "The point—the point is that there is no point, I guess."

As she straightened, Edward grabbed her hand. "Hey. I wanna try something. Think you're up for it?"

"What?"

Edward smirked and tugged her toward the jukebox. "Do you trust me?"

"I don't know if I should."

Edward dropped her hand as he searched through the song list. "This one should work. I know this one, even though I can't figure out for the life of me why you have it in a country bar jukebox."

A slow, bluesy guitar riff echoed across the empty dance floor as Edward reached for Bella's hand and placed it on his lower abdomen, close to his hip, letting it rest above his belt.

"Edward, what the hell are you doing?" she asked sarcastically.

He smiled down at her. "Humor me?"

She started giggling as Edward started swaying in front of her. "You look like a complete idiot dancing by yourself like that."

"Well, the point was to get you to dance _with_ me. I think I may have picked up a few things the last two nights while watching from the stage."

She slapped a palm to her face as she tried to hold back the giggles. "Okay, okay!"

Edward drew her hand from her face and placed it on his shoulder as he took her other hand in his. They slowly swayed in place until Edward started taking a few steps back and forth, mimicking what he'd seen the other dancers doing in the bar.

_I was the one you always dreamed of,  
>You were the one I tried to draw.<br>How dare you say it's nothing to me?  
>Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.<em>

"So you want to tell me why John Mayer is on your jukebox?"

"I like him. A lot. His music is just…It gets me. You know what I mean?"

"He's definitely a cool guy. Kind of a douchebag, though."

"Oh, come on! He is not!"

Edward agreed. "Okay, he's not a total douche bag. He's a nice guy."

"And you would know this how?" Rolling her eyes and then looking him square in his, Bella asked, "What is the point of all this, anyway?"

"Well…" he started as he spun her out from him, catching Bella off guard and making her laugh. "You had a bad memory of something in this bar. I wanted to create a happier one. How am I doing?"

_Don't you think we oughta know by now?  
>Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?<em>

She spun back toward him, a little off balance. "I think you've done a great job. Thank you."

As the song came to an end, he tipped his imaginary cowboy hat at her and led her back to the table to collect her things before heading upstairs for the night.

She looked tired and worn out from a long busy night, and Edward told Bella that he'd pick up what was left so that she could use the shared bathroom first.

She thanked him and gave a little wave as she headed through the bar to the stairs. Halfway up, she stopped and turned to thank him for the great night, but hesitated as she watched him dump their bottles in the trash.

Tense and brows furrowed, he seemed deep in thought. She wondered what he was thinking about. His own story he had yet to tell? Or her and what he learned tonight?

Part of her hoped for the latter; the other part wished he wouldn't. She already opened up to him like a can of worms, when she rarely told the story to anyone. Who knew what would happen if he took an interest her.

She shook her head and turned to go continue up the stairs. What did it matter? He'd go back to whatever life he had, while she stayed in her little town. And she was his boss. A relationship between them would be unethical, right? _Right?_

Edward let out a deep breath as he heard the door close behind her in the hall. That was the closest he'd been to a woman in a long time, and it was growing increasingly difficult for him to contain himself around such a naturally wonderful person like Bella.

His only problem at the moment, though, was trying to not imagine her in the shower upstairs.

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know by leaving me a lovely review. You can always find me on Twitter: stephabelle77<strong>


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